Stavanger Bay Peek-a-boo, I see you

A few intricacies were apparent in Kevlyn's personality, the most defining being that he hated being dirty or wet.

A recent rain storm had washed some debris and mud into the den not three days ago. While Julooke had slept, he had used the newfound strength in his legs to toddle blindly toward the place where smells originated, the yawning maw of the den. He'd never made it further than the threshold, for a sixth sense always seemed to rouse his mother like a conveniently placed trip wire. On that day, he'd made it as far as the puddle, but as soon as the chill, damp mud soaked through his thin fur, he'd cried and cried until someone rescued him.

That had been a few days ago, and since then, even the barest hint of dirtiness was responded to with raucous wailing. Kevlyn was just as vocal today as he'd been when he was born but, being larger, he was also quite a bit louder. He could walk now, albeit slowly and laboriously, and that was what he was doing now. Kevlyn liked walking, because it kept his tummy from getting full of grime, not that he consciously knew much about it.

Today, he had learned a new skill in the form of Sight, level 1. He could make out the faint outlines of his siblings, Charon being the most visible to his weak and blurry eyes, as well as the shaft of light that penetrated the den's darkness from the outside. This change came as no surprise, for now that he had sight, he couldn't remember a time without it. That the world had been nothing but darkness days prior, he didn't recall.

Charon was moving somewhere nearby and Kevlyn, spotting him, made a clumsy lunge for his brother's tail in hopes of initiating a baby wrestling match.